


Viscum Album

by Camaendir



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cheeky Charlie, Christmas Party, Drinking Etiquette, Jealousy, M/M, Magicked Mistletoe, protective Molly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 00:31:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16776019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camaendir/pseuds/Camaendir
Summary: George and Ron are decorating for the Weasley Christmas party and George breaks out his newest product, Kiss-and-Go Mistletoe. All is good until Teddy Lupin shows up with Draco and Scorpius Malfoy. As the night progresses, Ron discovers that people can change for the better.





	Viscum Album

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what it is about the holiday season that boosts my creative side into overdrive, but I always want to pump out a bunch of stories this time of year.  
> Always love to hear from you all, so if you have any comments or recommendations, feel free to leave a message.  
> Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy it. ^_^

“So this is the big new item for the holidays?” Ron asked his brother, gingerly touching the ribbon tied around the jinxed item.

“Yep. Call it ‘Kiss-and-go Mistletoe’,” George answered, grabbing one sprig and putting it in a quiet corner of the library. “Gonna be real popular with the students this year.”

“So what is it? Accio charm? Love spell?” He looked at the label, where a picture of a man and woman were kissing under the mistletoe inside a pink bubble.

“More like a… revealing love spell. So the charm is activated once a berry is removed. If two people stand underneath, it prevents them from walking away until they kiss.”

Ron snorted into his sleeve. “I don’t know who’s gonna kill you first. Mum, for setting them up at this little party, or McGonagall for letting those lose at the school.”

“You didn’t let me finish. The charm only works if the two caught underneath have… a deep desire for each other. So, no cases of trying to get that cute girl who doesn’t even know you exist to kiss you.” 

“Hmm. Brilliant. No possible lawsuits there, then. Wait…” Ron turned from the window overlooking the London street and faced his brother fully. “Is this cause you still think Angelina and Charlie are-“

“They are spending way too much time together since he came home for the holidays,” George said bitterly, taking the mistletoe from Ron and fastening it above the kitchen door. “I’d trade places with Percy for a year if it meant I got to the bottom of this.”

Ron rolled his eyes and pulled out his wand, flicking it to drape garland around the library. “Is that why you begged Harry to have a holiday party here? So you could catch the two of them off guard?”

“…Possibly,” George muttered, finishing with his last mistletoe he had strategically placed on all three floors of Grimmauld Place. It was the only home big enough to host the entire family, now that there were nieces and nephews and even more Potters in the mix.

The two of them continued with the finishing touches to brighten up the narrow house. The decorations and illuminated baubles helped make feel Grimmauld Place feel less like a mausoleum. Ron nodded to himself before checking on the kitchen, where George was pouring even more rum into the massive bowl of eggnog. The food covering every inch of the kitchen table and counters were under stasis charms, waiting for the first guests to arrive.

“So… do you think Mum’s gonna bring more?” Ron asked, eyeing the tower of crème puffs standing in the corner.

“I’m honestly surprised she didn’t show up an hour ago and remake all this from scratch,” George laughed. 

He poured himself a large mug of eggnog and beckoned Ron to follow him to the fireplace in the library. There, they waited for the rest of the Weasley clan to arrive.

~~~

Percy and his wife Audrey arrived first via floo before Bill and Fleur Apparated into the entryway. The children screamed and ran past their parents, jumping up to tackle George to the ground. Ron smiled and greeted his brothers as they milled around the library, drinks floating in from the kitchen. Angelina arrived next, walking out of the floo with a beautiful red dress on, but still smelling lightly of broom polish and leather.

“Glad you could get away from practice early,” George said into her hair, holding her close.

“I’d hate to be the last one to arrive like last year. I know how your mum hates us digging in before everyone show up.” She smiled at her husband and patted his arm and went to talk with Bill and Fleur.

Ron shook his head at George, who narrowed his eyes back. 

Harry and Ginny popped into the hallway, quickly sheading coats and hugging everyone they could see. Their children did the same, just in a more exuberant manner. Ron squatted down to hug his nephews and niece, sliding trick Galleons into their hands before Ginny could catch him.

He grabbed Harry into a bear hug and laughed as his sister hit him to drop her husband. 

“How’s life, Ron?” She kissed his cheek. “And I’m taking those Galleons before we leave.”

“How-“

“I got Mum’s eye and Dad’s sense for finding trouble.” She smiled sweetly.

“They’ll be perfectly fine, Gin!”

“I’m still cleaning up from last year’s Glitter Bomb Bonbons, Ronnykins. Try it again next year and I’ll tell Mum about-“

“Tell me about what, dear?” Molly asked as she stepped out of the fireplace, arms full of pies and cakes.

“Mum! We told you not to make anything!” George said over Ginny’s shoulder, grabbing the pies while kissing her on the cheek. “I’ll save these to take home-“

“They are for everyone, George Weasley. And if you don’t march those into the kitchen, I will have you pulling gnomes from the garden until next Christmas!” She threatened, pushing her coat back and planting her fists on her hips.

George lowered his head. “Yes, Mum.”

“Hello, dear.” Molly turned her attention to Ginny, kissing her on the cheek before turning to Ron.

She smiled softly as she put her hands on his cheeks and patted. “You look good, Ronald. Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas, Mum.” He smiled back and scooped her into a hug. “No cottage pie?”

“Ronald!” She slapped his arm. “Your father’s got it. Now,” she grabbed Ron’s arm and walked him to the kitchen, “help me place the pies. I don’t trust your brother.”

He smiled and followed her, looking behind himself as his father stepped out of the fireplace, a pot of cottage pie under each arm.

He handed Molly pastry after pastry as she squeezed them between all the other savory and sweet dishes George had bought for the party. She bustled around the kitchen as comfortable as if it were her own, before she turned to Ron and shrugged out of her coat. She smiled at him again and grabbed his hands.

“Has Hermione shown up yet?”

Ron blanched and stuttered a negative. 

“Well she better arrive soon. I need to see the young ones,” she smiled broadly at Ron.

“I’m sure she is getting them ready now. You know how Hugo is. Impossible to get him to wear a coat unless you curse it onto him.”

“I know. I just wish she’d bring them by more often.”

“Mum,” Ron sighed, trying to put on a sweet smile for her, “just ask ‘Mione and she’ll floo with them to the Burrow whenever you want. Even after the divorce, she loves you like her own mother.” He kissed the top of his mum’s head.

“Why can’t they stay with you more often, though?” She asked with pleaded eyes.

“My place is too small for the kids to stay long term. Besides, do you really want a repeat of last March?”

The two smiled and laughed at the thought. Hugo had sniffed out the untested Wheezes products at Ron’s flat and released dozens of screaming puffskins onto Diagon Alley and turned Rose neon green.

“Which is the reason Hugo needs to wear a straightjacket when we leave the house,” came a small voice from the doorway.

Rose Weasley stood there, coat in hand and a serious look across her young face.

Molly nearly squealed and ran over to Rose, kissing her all over the face in glee. ”Hi, grandma.” She hugged Molly back, nearly being lifted off her feet. She turned to Ron and walked over, throwing her arms across his waist. “Hi, dad.”

“Hi, sweetie. You get into any more trouble with that broom yet?” He hugged her back.

“One accident. One accident and Mum locks up the brooms,” she whined, throwing her head back to look at her father.

“I heard it was two accidents.”

“One accident. Two broken windows.”

Ron scoffed. “We did much worse when we were your age.”

Someone cleared their throat from the hallway. The familiar voice echoed down into the kitchen. “It was two windows from three doors down.” 

Ron patted Rose’s head, and made his way to the entryway, where he could hear his ex-wife fighting with Hugo. Hermione was bent over Hugo, trying to pull his coat from his fists. Ron could make out the words “Chudley” and “fire” come from his son before the wild redhead caught sight of his father.

His face lit up and he let go of the coat, hurling himself down the hallway into his dad’s arms. “Dad! I missed you! Tell mom that jumper belongs in the fire!” He yelled out, pointing at the offending jacket in Hermione’s hand.

Ron raised an eyebrow and looked at his ex, who just rolled her eyes and held up the jumper. Down the arm was the emblem for the Falmouth Falcons. Ron smiled and met his son’s pleading eyes. 

“Sorry, son. But we are not burning your new jumper.”

Hugo responded by going dead in Ron’s arms. He closed his eyes and let his tongue roll out of his mouth.

“Instead, we’ll get you a bigger jumper that has the Cannons on every part of it. How’s that?”

Hugo opened one eye and pursed his lips. “That’ll work.”

Ron smiled. “Good. Now,” he set his son down and pushed him towards the kitchen, “go say hello to grandma.”

As soon as Hugo was out of sight, Ron turned to Hermione with a small smile. She was wearing a maroon dress with gold trim and ivy that climbed up the sides. She smiled back at Ron and hung Hugo’s jumper next to her own.

“Really? The Falcons?” Ron mentally hit himself for the words that tumbled from him. “Can’t your new man at least pick a team that has a chance for the cup this year?”

“This coming from a man who still follows the Cannons.”

Ron sputtered. “This will be their year, ‘Mione! Just wait and see!”

Hermione crossed her arms over chest and rolled her eyes. “Ron, you’ve been saying that for twenty years, and it still hasn’t happened. Look,” she strode forward and put her hands on his shoulders, “just accept that you and Raskin have the same tastes in women and terrible Quidditch teams.”

The two smiled and Ron directed Hermione into the library. “I’m glad to see he’s making you happy.”

Hermione opened her mouth to respond before Ginny jumped her and spun her around in a tight hug. Harry walked up next to Ron and waited his turn. He nudged his friend in the side and nodded towards the fireplace, where George was trying to maneuver Angelia and Charlie under the hanging mistletoe in the corner.

Ron just shrugged and stepped to the side when Hermione hugged Harry. “So, is that everyone? Can we start eating yet?”

Harry looked around and nodded. “Just about. Teddy will be making his way over with Neville once they pull into King’s Cross.”

“Good. It’ll be good for him to have a little fun before he spends the holidays with his-“ A shudder ran through Ron. “-cousin. How he manages to spend more than two days at Malfoy Manor is beyond me.”

Harry looked around the library a bit. “He actually enjoys it. Says Scorpius is a great kid to hang around with. Did you seriously forget them?”

Ron frowned. “Forget what? We got decorations, plenty of food, eggnog that could knock Hagrid out.”

Harry looked at Ron and grinned. “Not a board of Wizard Chess in sight. How is this supposed to be a holiday party without Wizard Chess?”

Ron grinned back. “If you really want to have your kids watch me kick your arse, then I’ll pull some boards from upstairs.”

Harry punched his shoulder and headed for the stairs. “I know exactly where they are. Let me help you.”

The two made their way away from the party-goers, passing by Bill and Fleur with their crying youngest in one of the bedrooms. Ron did not miss the days when every loud noise made Rose or Hugo scream their head off.

They entered the third floor study and Harry pulled three dusty cases from a trunk. He brushed them off, showing the battling pieces on the cover to Ron. He reached out to take them from Harry when the Auror set them down on the desk. He crossed his arms and stared down his friend.

“So… how are you? Really?” He asked, unblinking.

“I’m good. Joke shop’s doing well. Have my eye on a bigger place further from Diagon.”

“If you need help with it, I’d be-“

“I’m not taking your money, Harry. I don’t need the papers following me around like after the War, saying I can’t do anything without you holding me up.” He ran a hand through his fiery hair. “I don’t need you or ‘Mione thinking I can’t make it on my own.”

Harry held his hands up. “I wasn’t saying you can’t. I just know how much you put back into the shop and send to your mum. I don’t want to see anything bad happen to you because you’re helping out your family so much.”

Ron huffed and knitted his brow. “I’m. Fine. Just because Hermione is on the fast track to becoming Minister, doesn’t mean I’m sitting at home, drinking myself into a stupor. I’ve been making great sellers for the shop. Been hanging out with friends. Even started dating again.” He finished with a blush and a heel digging into the floor.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Really? Dating again?”

“Well… been thinking about it,” Ron clarified, his blush reaching his ears. “There’s a new shop owner down the street who’s been… showing interest.” He shook his head and smiled. “Can we continue this later? I want to save the really surprising stuff for the chess game. Need it to throw you off your game.”

Harry chuckled and picked up the cases, handing them to Ron. “Fine. But I’m not dropping this. I want to hear who this girl is who’s smitten with you.”

The two laughed as they made their way back downstairs, the old floorboards creaking under them. They were halfway down the second set of stairs when there was the telltale sound of glass breaking from the library. They shuffled quickly down the steps and moved to find the commotion.

Ron nearly dropped the chess boards in a need to grab his wand.

Brushing off soot from the fireplace, Teddy Lupin stood with a grand smile underneath wild aquamarine locks. He waved towards Harry, unraveling the scarf from around his neck. But Harry didn’t reciprocate the action. He was too busy looking over his godson’s shoulder.

Draco Malfoy stood behind Teddy, his dark grey cloak almost seeming to draw the light from the room. He didn’t look any of the Weasley clan in the eye, instead opting for the floor of the library.

No one spoke. Not even the children. The silence that permeated the air was thick with the static of boiling emotions. Harry was the first to react.

“Teddy, I thought… someone else was going to bring you,” he stated in his best Auror voice.

Teddy opened his mouth, but was silenced with a hand on his shoulder.

“Professor Longbottom was unable to get away from the school for the holiday break,” Draco explained, finally lifting his eyes to stare down his old school rival. “He flooed me to see if I would be willing to accompany young Teddy here and make sure he got to the… family gathering safely.” 

Teddy looked up at him and nodded, turning his attention to Harry and smiled. “Cousin Draco said he’d be delighted to and met me at the station.”

“I did not say anything about being ‘delighted’ to do this. Just that I was available,” Draco corrected, giving the young man a sideways glance. “Besides,” he gave a small smile, “as soon as Scorpius heard your name, he was answering in my stead.”

Ron furrowed his brow and leaned to the side, to find a miniscule Malfoy directly behind Teddy. Large grey eyes stared shyly at the back of the older boy’s blue-green head. He could feel his stomach drop at the idea of his children going to school with another Malfoy.

“And now that you are here with your godfather,” Draco said, taking Scorpius’s hand in his, “We shall take our leave. I’ll leave the floo open for whenever you wish to return. Have fun.” He turned back to the fireplace and paused, his shoulders sinking for a split second. He turned back and gave Harry a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Happy Christmas, Potter.” His attention turned to where Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were standing. “And to you as well, Weasley, Granger, and Mrs. Weasley-Potter.”

He reached for a floo bag in his cloak and turned back to the fireplace. But he was stopped by Teddy’s hand on his cloak, who was still looking at his godfather.

“Can he and Scorpius join us?”

Ron could have sworn he heard the house itself gasp at the question.

“Teddy,” Harry started, a hurt look in his eyes, “I think Mr. Malfoy has better things to do than hang around with… old schoolmates.”

A small, refined voice piped up. “He really doesn’t.” Most of the room, including Teddy and Draco, turned to face Scorpius, who stood there like he was just describing the weather. “He’ll just sit in his chair and read some old book until he falls asleep.”

“Scorpius!” Draco scolded, his face growing redder than Ron had ever seen it. And not from anger. “They don’t need to know how I choose to spend my evenings,” he hissed down at his son, closing his eyes.

“But it’s true, Father!” The young blond retorted, looking up at Draco defiantly. “And you’ll just make me do more wand practice until dinner. I’d rather be with Teddy.” 

Draco gaped like a grindylow, unable to find a response to his son.

Teddy scuffled Scorpius’s slicked back hair and turned to Harry, a determined look in his eye as his hair grew streaks of black in it. “This is a family gathering, right?” He lifted his chin to his godfather. “Or is this a Weasley family gathering?”

Ron could see Harry’s jaw tighten and his heels dig into the carpet. He sighed and strode forward, putting his hands on Teddy’s shoulders. 

“Some days, I forget you are your father’s son.” He smiled and looked above the boy’s head to the blond man behind him. “Draco, I would very much like it if you and Scorpius would join us this evening.”

Ron just stared and could hear buzzing in his ears as Draco nodded, and his son did the same more feverishly.

Perhaps the eggnog didn’t have enough rum after all.

Teddy grinned and took Scorpius’s hand as his hair returned to full aquamarine. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the family.” 

The library was quiet again as the footsteps faded into the kitchen. Eyes were trained on the tall blond standing by the fire, his own somewhere around Harry’s knees. He finally looked up and worried a smile onto his face.

“I fear that once Scorpius goes to Hogwarts, he’s going to stick to Teddy like a shadow. He already does whenever he stays at the Manor.” He placed his hands behind his back, further showing the black and emerald suit underneath.

“Well,” Hermione cut in, much to Ron’s surprise, “Teddy has quite a… large personality. Most of the younger children look up to him.” She smiled at Draco with a tilt of her head, and Ron swore he saw Malfoy give an honest to Merlin smile back. “Of course, I think the hair is part of it.”

Draco took a hesitant step forward. “Has he tried the rainbow trick yet with them? I can’t get Scorpius to stop giggling for an hour after he does it.”

Hermione smiled wide and walked forward, slipping her arm into Draco’s and leading him to a couch. “No! He hasn’t! I’ll have to keep an eye out for that. Rose already tried to dye her hair bright pink last year to copy him!”

They sat down and began a feverish conversation about the boy and his influences. Ron turned slowly to Harry and Ginny and just gaped.

“What… the… fuck-“

He heard a cough from his left, where Percy was watching him from the hallway. Ron stuck his tongue out.

“- the f-heck is going on?”

Ginny shook her head and Harry was just staring over Ron’s shoulder. “I think… they are having a… civil conversation.” Harry shook his head and drug a hand over his features. “Did Teddy hex him to make him not act so… Malfoy.”

“What’s next?” Ron laughed out, finally tossing the chess boards onto a table. “George and Charlie giving everything up to become accountants at Gringott’s?”

Ginny rolled her eyes and a heavy hand landed on Ron’s shoulder. Charlie’s long fiery hair brushed across Ron’s cheek as he leaned over his brother’s shoulder. “If they still have those guard dragon’s underneath the vaults, I would absolutely do it.” He smiled wide and straightened up, standing next to Ron with a hideous off-green and gold sweater over his broad frame.

“You don’t get it, Charlie. He-“

Charlie held up a hand. “He was a kid under the care of dark old bastard. People can change, Ronnie. Even Malfoys. Just give him a chance. It’s been a lot of years since school ended.”

Ron just huffed and stomped out, leaving Charlie to talk to Ginny and Harry. He made his way into the kitchen, where the kids were being fed copious amounts of food by his mum. Even the young Malfoy was accepting a large plate of cottage pie from Molly with a politeness that put the Potter kids to shame. 

He began digging around the cupboards for a bottle of Firewhiskey. He was halfway around the kitchen before someone tutted behind him. He turned to his mum, who had the unopened bottle in her hand.

“I was just-“

“I know what you were doing, Ronald,” she said, putting the bottle back into a cupboard and tapping the glass door with her wand. Ron huffed and grabbed a crème puff, popping it into his mouth. “I’m not too happy he’s here either,” she said quietly, pulling Ron by the arm and pulling him away from where the children sat. “But, Teddy trusts him not to do anything while he’s here, and I doubt he’ll cause trouble while he’s with his son. Are you going to start trouble in front of Hugo and Rose, dear?”

Ron slumped his shoulders. “No, mum.”

She smiled and put her hands on his cheeks. “That’s my boy. Now, go give him this plate. That boy is thin as a rail.”

“Mum. I think-“ She shot him the look. “I’ll go do that.”

He took the plate piled with turkey and potatoes and vegetables and walked it to the library. Hermione was on the couch, chatting away with Percy. Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. He made his way to the drawing room, but no Malfoy there either. Fleur and Bill were sitting with their child between them, having a heated discussion with Harry about the Triwizard Tournament. His father and Ginny were playing around with Arthur’s radio, trying to get some sort of half-decent music to play from it, instead of just the usual loud static.

Ron huffed and made his way to the second floor. He knew if he just set the plate down and walked away, his mum would sense it. He checked the open bedrooms first, finding George pressed up against the wall outside one with a finger to his lips. Ron walked past him and looked into the room, seeing Charlie and Angelina looking at something between them. Ron rapped on the doorframe. Causing the two to jump and block Ron’s view of whatever they were looking at. 

“Either of you seen Malfoy?” He asked, watching them shuffle a little.

“Nope. That from mum?” Charlie responded, pointing to the plate.

“Yep. You know mum. Won’t be happy until everyone is stuffed with her food.” He just smiled and left, leaving them to their… whatever was going on.

George stared him down as he continued looking for the blond. 

Draco was in the study, leaning his hip against the desk and staring out the window at the dark London street. His cloak was folded over a chair, and his thin frame was silhouetted by the light of the window. His hair was almost silver in the light, longer than he wore it during school, with a small braid across the back.

Ron cleared his throat, causing Malfoy to slowly turn his head. His shoulders stiffened when he saw it was Ron and he turned to face him, placing his hands back behind himself.

“I apologize if this area is off-limits. I thought it would be best to be… out of the way until Scorpius was ready to leave.” He didn’t meet Ron’s gaze.

“It’s… fine. Mum thought you might be hungry,” Ron replied, holding the plate out in front of him.

Draco nodded and took the food, placing it onto the desk. He turned back to Ron, his eyes somewhere along the ginger’s collar. “Thank you. That’s very considerate.”

They stood in silence for several minutes, neither moving from their spots. Ron’s fingers pulled at the hem of his buttoned shirt, looking for a thread to yank at.

“Well,” Ron took a step back towards the doorway, “if Scorpius starts looking for you, I’ll let him know you’re up here.”

“Wait.” Draco held up a hand and immediately pulled it back to his chest. “I wanted to… to say I’m…” He sucked in a breath and finally looked Ron in the eye. “I’m glad Teddy has you and your family in his life. He’s learned a lot from the Weasleys and the Potters, and I hope you continue to teach him well.”

Ron’s brain could barely form words. Did that eggnog go to his head?

“Um. Thanks, Malfoy.” He could only blink while processing what the blond had said. “Teddy has learned a lot from you as well…”

Draco raised a well manicured eyebrow. “You… you really think so?”

Ron huffed out a laugh and shrugged. “I have no fuckin’ clue. There’re so many pricks in his life, it’s hard to tell who he’s getting his attitude from.”

Malfoy looked taken aback for a moment, before he let out a chuckle. “I think… that’s the first honest feeling I’ve gotten out of anyone here. Well aside from…” He trailed off, looking beyond Ron. “Never mind.” Shaking his head, he went to his coat and pulled out a silver flask with coiling snakes and a ram’s head on it. “Would you care for a drink not swimming in cream and sugar?” He offered the flask to Ron, who couldn’t help but feel a grin tug at his lips. 

He nodded, taking the flask from Malfoy. “Sure.” He took a swig and nearly choked on the fire that slithered down his throat. He handed the flask back with a hand over his mouth, his face scrunched up. ”What the hell is that?”

Draco’s throat bobbed as he took a long swallow. “Lantern’s Bourbon. Holly casks help the hangover in the morning and the ember seeds keep you warm for those long nights out on the town.” He took another drink. “Or for an evening in a drafty home.” He stared at the wall opposite him without really looking at it.

Ron felt the heat in his gut now, burning out the chill of memories for when he was within the walls of Malfoy Manor. “So… you’re still at the Manor, then?”

Malfoy nodded, his gaze falling to inspect the molding. “Part of the condition from the Ministry. The Malfoy estate and reputation would be returned as long as I stayed within the Manor’s walls. Easier to keep an eye on me and Father, I assume.” 

Ron’s brow furrowed. “I thought you’re dad-“

“Was running around? He is. He and Mother have gotten a small place up north. But now that I am the proprietor of the estate, he has to come to me for money. Anything I give him comes from a Ministry account. Have to prove he spends the galleons on what he says he’s spending them on. So he can roam around while I can’t spend three days away from the Manor without Aurors tracking me.”

Ron lowered his head. He couldn’t even imagine not being able to move away from the Burrow. He needed his own space to be himself. And he suspected Draco needed it too.

“So does that mean you’ll be stuck there forever? Like some captured princess?”

Draco gave him a look. “Of course not. Just until they feel my father and I have paid our dues. So another thirty years of so.”

Ron scratched at his nape. He tried to meet the other man’s eyes. “You know, Hermione is looking at being Minister. She and Harry could-“

“No.” The answer was swift and Ron could catch the old Malfoy in his steel-blue eyes. “I spent so many years having every person I spoke to telling me the only reason I wasn’t in Azkaban was because of Potter. That my father owes his freedom to him. Without his words and demands of leniency, the whole Malfoy family would be behind bars until our bones turn to dust.” He sucked in a quick breath and released it slowly, his nostrils flaring. “I will not go through that again.”

Ron nodded, taking a step back to lean his shoulder against the doorframe. “I know what you mean. The papers act like you can’t point your wand the right direction without his hand on your arm.”

Draco’s eyes grew clearer. “Is that why you’re working with your brother instead of running around as an Auror with Potter?”

Ron nodded. “If I went to the Ministry with Harry, I’d never hear the end of it. My whole career would be accusations of me riding Harry’s coattails.” 

“That is a load of shite.”

“… Excuse me?”

“You would have made a great Auror, without Potter’s help.” Draco took another sip from his flask. “I know he’s your best mate, but honestly if I ever needed protective detail, I’d rather have you or your wife beside me. He sticks to Expelliarmus and Patronum like they’re his fists and his only other possible skill is beating a dark wizard in the head with his broom.”

“That’s not fair, Malfoy.” Ron scowled. “He just learned how to Stupify.” He broken in a grin that Draco matched.

“Wonderful, then I’d hear three useless spells before I’m killed instead of two.” He held out the flask.

“Prat.”

“Git.”

“Ferret.”

“Weasel.”

They both chuckled and Ron took the flask, taking another swig. The burn was less intense this time. “Look at us. A whole conversation and not a fist has flown.” He handed the liquor back to the blond.

“Evening is young, Weasley. We may still duke it out before the night is over.” Draco’s smile was… mischievous.

“Very true. Well, I’m going to make sure that Percy isn’t kissing Hermione’s ass too hard.” He tapped the doorframe lightly twice. “Care to watch me call out my brown-nosing brother?”

“Why not? Let’s see if you’ve learned anything from all my insults toward you during school, Weasley.”

Ron smirked and turned to make his way downstairs. “Oh! Two things before we join civilized society. One: there are a lot of Weasleys down there. Could you try using our first names?”

Draco nodded, slipping his flask into his vest. “I’ll try to remember all of your brood… Ron.”

“Good. And two: Hermione is not my wife. We divorced last winter.”

The blond stood at the top of the stairs as Ron made his way down, the wood creaking with every other step.

~~~

“I think she’d rather go through the war again than deal with a school full of Weasleys,” Ron said, moving his rook forward to take Harry’s knight.

“I’d disagree with you, but Neville told me she’s been having the wards doubled up each year since Teddy arrived.”

“Maybe she’ll ask if he can plant more Whomping Willows around the campus to keep them in check.”

“God, I hope not. James would find a way to smash a broom into each and every one of them,” Harry shuddered, sweeping the pieces of his bishop and a pawn to the side of the board.

“Just following in his father’s footsteps.” Ron grinned. “Checkmate.” 

“Another round. You distracted me.” He tapped the side of the board with his wand, watching the pieces shuffle back into place and the broken statues mend themselves. “Of course,” he eyed Ron over the top of his glasses, “You seem distracted, too.” 

Ron crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in the armchair. “I have no clue what you’re going on about.”

“Ever since you came back down with Malfoy, you haven’t stopped staring at him.” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “Are we going to be hearing wedding bells in the future?”

Ron scoffed, but let his eyes drift back over to Draco, who was leaning against the fireplace talking to Charlie. The fire glistened against the silver in his cuffs and chain hanging from his vest. He was smiling at Ron’s older brother, leaning in a little with a flourish of his hands, causing Charlie to give a deep belly laugh.

“Not a chance, Harry. It’s just,” he sighed, “I never thought I’d say this, but… I think Malfoy… he’s changed. He’s actually changed.”

“People do change, Ron. Especially when you don’t have a sadistic monster breathing down your neck. I was surprised he didn’t chime in about Percy wanting to be Hermione’s assistant.”

“I was, too! I was waiting for something. About a Weasley having to be a follower, not a leader. About Percy still having Fudge on his nose. Something.” He rubbed his chin, moving a pawn two spaces forward. “But… nothing. Just a chuckle and an offer of donating to Hermione’s campaign.”

“Well, that makes sense. It’d help him get back in the good graces of the community. Maybe someone will finally accept his money.”

“What do you mean?” Ron leaned forward, hands templed under his chin.

“He’s been trying to donate money around the country for the past ten years or so, but no one is taking it from him. St. Mungo’s turned down his donations, Borgin and Burkes refused to take rare tomes from his library for free, and even Honeydukes didn’t take an offer for investment.” He moved a bishop to take Ron’s pawn. “And they could’ve opened shops internationally with that money, from what I heard.”

“Huh.” Ron shot a quick glance toward Draco. He had his fingers around the fabric of Charlie’s sleeve, nodding to something the ginger man was saying. He caught Ron eyeing him and turned back to Charlie, withdrawing his hand to straighten the charcoal edge of his vest.

“Was that… weird to you?” He asked, moving his bishop all the way across the board.

“Was what weird?” Harry took the bishop with his rook. “Check.”

“Them. Charlie and Draco. He had his hand in Charlie’s sweater.”

The black-haired man shrugged. “Maybe he wants your mum to make him one, too. He’s probably never worn something that didn’t have a designer label in it.” He moved his knight. “Checkmate!” He exclaimed loudly, fists over his head.

There was a chuckle from the fireplace, where Charlie was leaning against the mantle, his arm a hair’s width from Draco’s shoulder. “That’s your first win in how long, Harry?”

“Never you mind that. Just know the I beat Ron on this December eve.”

Charlie bent down and whispered something in Draco’s ear, earning him a laugh.

Ron narrowed his eyes and stood up, brushing the flecks of pewter from his trousers. “I am going to see if Mum is willing to open the firewhiskey. To celebrate your harrowing victory.” He quickly left the library with his long legs and tried to uncharm the cabinet in the kitchen.

“Need any help?” 

He turned to find his father in the doorway, his hands shoved into his cardigan. He strode forward, the lights catching the grey striping through his hair. His wand tapped the cabinet and was drawn downward, locks clicking along the way. 

“Your mother is currently berating your brother over the charmed mistletoe,” he said with a smile, grabbing the firewhiskey and a few tumblers. “Apparently Audrey got caught under one with Bill. Turns out she has a thing with men with scars.” 

“I’m sure Ginny is keeping an eye on her and Harry.”

Arthur’s eyes crinkled in laughter. “She definitely inherited your mum’s temper. I’m a little surprised she isn’t running around setting fire to every bit of mistletoe she can find.”

Ron filled two tumblers with the firewhiskey, handing one to his father. He looked around the kitchen. “Dad, have you… seen Scorpius?” The young blond boy was not pressed up against Teddy’s side like Ron expected him to be all evening.

“Yes. He is in the drawing room with James. Seems the two of them connected rather quickly. I will say that boy is nothing like his grandfather.”

“Draco did a good job raising him.” 

Arthur turned slowly and raised an eyebrow at his youngest son. “Draco? Almost strange to hear that name come out of your mouth without a string of curses after it.” 

Ron shrugged. “I think he’s trying to be a better person for his son’s sake. I’d do the same. Hate to think of Rose or Hugo paying for my mistakes from school.” 

“It’s amazing the things we’ll do to protect our kids,” Arthur explained, throwing an arm around Ron. “Especially as a single parent. That has to be… challenging.”

“Merlin, you’re right. I’d forgotten about that.” Ron pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Draco’s wife passed less than a year after Scorpius was born. Ron remembered the announcement from the Prophet, accompanied with a photo of Draco and a handful of people walking away from the funeral. The blond man was flanked by two Aurors, the robes muted in the monochromatic photograph. His wife had died from some sort of blood curse that had been placed on the family several generations ago.

His father took a drink of firewhiskey, squeezing Ron’s shoulder. “It’s hard losing someone, Ron. We all know that. The difference is we had each other to comfort and help each other. I don’t think he ever did.”

“Hm.” Ron looked down into his drink, watching the light cut through the red-amber.

“Well, how about we go see if your mother has bound your brother to a chair for the rest of the night?”

Ron smiled and nodded, following his father into the drawing room. Most of the family was gathered in there, including the children, watching Molly shake an accusing finger at George. Ron sidled in next to Draco, who was leaning against the wall with Scorpius and James to one side of him. The two were giggling madly.

“I should have you scrub the house clean with your own toothbrush, George Weasley! Why would you put those things up? You could have seriously hurt your brothers! Thank your stars they are willing to forgive you.”

George kept his head down, staring at his scuffed shoes. His eyes would shoot up to look at Bill and Percy for a split second, then turn down again. “I just thought it would be funny. Work out the kinks before I put them on the shelves.”

Molly huffed and shook her head, the wild curls whipping about her. “I swear, George. I have no idea how you come up with these things.” She raised her hands and turned away, muttering to herself. 

Ron watched as George slumped his way over to Angelina, who had a scowl across her delicate features. He felt fingers brush against his hand and turned to see Draco staring down. The long, pale fingers curled around the lip of the glass and pulled it from Ron’s grasp.

“What are-“

“Never drink a lower proof alcohol after a high proof. You’ll thank me in the morning when you aren’t tossing up your kidneys.” He tapped the glass with his wand and the firewhiskey evaporated. He replaced his wand with his flask and refilled the tumbler with bourbon. The blond held out the glass for Ron and took a swig from the flask.

Ron accepted the tumbler back and took a drink. “Good to know,” he exhaled.

“So…” Draco waved a hand toward George. “What was your brother trying to do? Cause general mayhem?”

“No. He has this idea that Charlie and his wife are seeing each other behind his back.”

Draco snorted. “That’s the most moronic thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I know. Charlie would never sleep with Angelina.”

“Or any woman,” Draco responded with a grin.

Ron shot him a look. “Or any… What do you mean by that?”

Draco gave the ginger man a slow once over, his brow furrowed. He then raised an eyebrow. “… His dragons.” He looked forward across the room to wear Angelina and George were mutedly arguing. “He’s so devoted to his dragons and the reserve, he’d never go after someone who wasn’t willing to lose a few fingers to them.” He raised his chin in a manner too reminiscent of their school years and gave Ron a side-eye glance. “I thought you would have guessed that about your brother. I mean, he is the only one of you who isn’t married.”

He shut his eyes and cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry. I only meant-“

“It’s okay, Draco. I know what you meant.” Ron slapped Draco on the shoulder, earning him a nod from the blond. “But… how did you know Charlie would-“

“Well, he told me so. Several years ago.”

“What?! How did you-“

“Do you remember when that group of Death Eaters escaped from the Aurors? Blew up an apothecary to do so?” He turned towards Ron and rolled his shoulder to adjust his lean on the wall.

Ron nodded. “That was while you were testifying against them and the others.”

“Well the Ministry had gotten word that they were going to try and keep me and my parents from finishing my testimonies. Permanently. So, they halted the court cases and arranged to split us up. Three separate countries. Three areas that were well warded and difficult to travel to by any means. The Aurors sent me to Romania. To a miniscule village just on the edge of the reserve.

“Three weeks in and I was going crazy. Nothing to do but sit in the safe house and twiddle my thumbs. So, one day, I snuck out while the Auror on duty was passed out and made my way to the pub down the road. I had done that three or four times when your-“

“When I showed up, looking for this little boy who a fellow tamer told me bore a striking resemblance to the brat who used to pick on my little brother and sister.” Charlie sauntered forward, standing between Draco and Ron with a devilish smile on his features. “Seamus Finnigan. Lasted a few years before moving on.” He held a hand out toward Draco. “Continue.”

Draco gave him a sarcastic smile and turned his attention back to Ron. “So, this mountainous Weasley begins stomping towards me, and I’m afraid that he’s either going to feed me to one of his pets or worse: send me to your mother to deal with me.”

“I could tell he was properly pissed, ‘cause as soon as I stood over his table, he did the worst thing possible.”

“What?”

Draco blushed as he answered. “I asked what smelled worse: a dragon’s pen after lunch, or your room.”

Ron’s ears burned and he scowled at the blond man. “You did not, you wanker.”

Charlie nodded. “He did. And I was so floored, all I could do is laugh and order a round.”

“Thus started six months of me drinking heavily and learning about dragons.” 

“Among other things…” Charlie cooed, wearing a shite-eating grin.

Draco narrowed his eyes. “Yes, Charles. Like when you’re hiding a baby dragon under your sweater.”

Both Ron and Charlie blanched. It was Draco’s turn to wear the grin as Charlie opened and closed his mouth like a fish. 

“How-“

“You always loved being a tease whenever we met at the pub. Always wearing tight robes and trouser that had everyone in the pub asking if you were on the menu. The only time you wore a bulky sweater like this one,” he emphasized his point with a finger hooking in the baggy stomach of the item, “was when you snuck out a Japanese water drake for me to see.”

Ron kept looking between the two. Draco, with his victorious grin. And Charlie, whose color was returning to his face too quickly.

“So what is it this time?” Draco clasped his hands behind his back, raising an eyebrow.

“A Swiss wyvern.”

“And why did you bring a baby dragon to the party? Merlin’s beard, you didn’t plan on giving it to one of the kids, did you?” Ron asked, finally finding his voice.

“What? No! I gave him to Angelina.”

Ron gasped, eyes wide. Then they narrowed. “So you two are having an affair.”

“No! She wants him to be the new mascot for her Quidditch team. They’re rebranding, and Angelina thought it would be cool to have a dragon mascot. And she’s right. A Swiss wyvern is incredibly tame. It only gets it’s bad reputation for accidently dislodging rocks on mountain sides and whipping up snow with it’s wings. And-“

“Charlie!” Ron put a hand on his arm and squeezed. “We get it. Dragons: good. But why keep it a secret from George? He was scared Angelina was cheating on him with you.”

Charlie scoffed. “Angelina would never cheat on George! She loves him to death. But you know how George is. If he knew I smuggled in a dragon for her, he’d hold it over my head for years. Demanding scales and ash and talons to use for his goods.”

“We could make some damn good fireworks with the ash…” Ron muttered to himself. Shaking the thought out of his head, he looked back at his brother. “No, no. I know what you mean. He wouldn’t stop until the Ministry sent someone to check it out. And probably continue until they hauled him in.”

Charlie nodded. “Right?”

“So there’s nothing there between you two?” Ron asked, taking a sip of his bourbon.

“Of course not, Ronnie,” Charlie replied with a chuckle. “I’m gay.”

Ron found out Lantern’s Bourbon burned a lot more being coughed back up. “You what?” He wiped the spittle from his mouth with his sleeve, eyes bugging out of his head.

“I’m gay, Ron. Only like blokes.” Charlie turned and pointed to Draco. “You didn’t tell him?”

Ron swiveled to face the blond man and pointed as well. “Y-you knew?!”

Pink was crawling over Draco’s cheeks even as he raised his chin and closed his eyes. “You never told him. I didn’t see it as my place to do so in your stead.”

“You never had any problem stepping over bounds before,” Charlie quipped, cocking his hip. 

“I was a younger man, then. And quite inebriated at the time.”

“Not for two of those times-“

“Wait! Time out!” Ron nearly shouted as things began to click in place in his head. “Did you two…”

“Just some light making out, Ronnie. Nothing serious. Don’t worry. He’s never had a Weasley c-“

“One more word,” Draco cut in sternly, “and I will tell George all about the dragon.”

Charlie looked over Draco slowly, blue eyes bright with humour. “Okay, Malfoy. Not another word. Now if you’ll please excuse me, I need to out myself to my brother so he’ll trust Angelina again.”

“And if I might suggest, come up with a believable reason as to why you two were sneaking off?” Draco offered, a light shrug of his shoulder. “Possibly planning a surprise, private vacation for the two of them in Romania. Someplace… remote.”

Charlie grinned, taking a step back. “Good cover. Thanks. Speaking of, if you ever need to get away from England, Draco, I’d be hap-“

“Go,” he replied with a smirk.

Charlie’s grin widened and he turned on his heel, determined to seek out his brother.

Ron continued to stare at Draco, eventually catching the man’s eye and causing him to face him again.

“What?” He looked back to where Charlie had left then rolled his eyes. “Oh, that? Well like I said, it wasn’t my place to tell you-“

“Not that! Well, yes, that. But not right now! You- you’re-“ He looked down at his tumbler and shot back the rest of the bourbon. “You like… like like… guys?”

Draco gave him an almost pitiable smile. “Yes, Weasley. I like men. Have since Hogwarts.”

“Bu-but you were married.”

Draco sighed. “An arranged marriage. That was set up long before Astoria or I even knew what crushes were.” His eyes were cast to the floor, a lost glaze over them. “I did love her. She was an amazing woman. Knew she didn’t have that long on this earth, but… she was elegant and poised and beautiful up until the end. I just wasn’t in love with her.”

There was a silence between them that couldn’t be shaken, even by the sounds of everyone else in the house. Ron swallowed, holding his tumbler in both hands.

“So, um, have you.. you know…”

“Have I what?” Draco huffed out, finally glancing over at Ron.

“Have you… seen anyone since then? Like… any special guy friends?”

Draco’s lips split and he broke out in laughter, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. Ron gave him a shaky smile in return.

“Merlin, you sound like such a parent right now.” He smiled at Ron, shaking his head with his eyes turned upward. “No, Mr. Weasley. I haven’t dated anyone in quite some time.” He shrugged and pushed off from the wall. “Contrary to what most people would think,” he said with fingers pressed against his chest and his nose in the air, “I am not a catch.”

“That’s shite and you know it,” Ron blurted out, surprising himself.

Draco was surprised as well, turning to look at Ron with a confused expression. It quickly morphed into a smirk. “Oh really? Do you know a lot of wizards willing to date an ex-Death Eater with a child and has the Ministry constantly breathing down his back? Guys who are willing to be seen in public with a man who still receives death threats while walking down Diagon and Knockturn Alley?” His expression soured. “Be able to lay in bed with him, looking at the mark that killed great wizards, great witches, and innocent children?” He inadvertently squeezed around his right forearm. “A mark that will never go away, no matter how many times you try to vanish it? Or cut it off your skin?” He let out a shaky breath. “Or burn it off?” He added quietly.

Ron felt his throat dry up, his tongue grow heavy in his mouth. He couldn’t reply to the man standing in front of him, visibly shaking from his own words.

Draco swallowed, and Ron could’ve sworn he saw his pink lips tremble, before he whispered, “That’s what I thought.”

The blond man turned and swept his way out of the room, leaving it devoid of people, save for a silent Ron.

~~~

Molly found him in the kitchen an hour later, most of the food picked clean and Bill and Percy taking their families home.

Ron was staring at the crème puff tower, rolling one of the delicate pastries between his fingers. The sugars were hardening from his body heat, and began to feel like sticky sand. The matriarch sat down next to her youngest son and pat his free hand, smoothing her thumb across the back of the freckled skin.

“Did you get into another fight with Hermione?” She asked, a comforting smile on her face.

He shook his head.

“Then what’s the matter, dear?”

“Nothing, mum. Just… felt like eating in here.”

“Ronald.” She reached over and carefully pulled the pastry from his fingers. “The last time you played with your food was when you and Hermione decided that living apart was for the best.” She called over a napkin and quickly wiped Ron’s hand. “Now…” She patted his hand. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Ron sighed and drug his free hand through his hair. “I… I don’t know. I was talking with Draco. And some… things came up. And I think I said something, or I didn’t say something, and now he- he thinks he’s going to be alone the rest of his life and I- I don’t know how to fix it.” He could hear the tremor in his voice.

“Well, at the end, it’s not up to you, Ronald. It’s up to him to put himself out there and go on dates. You can’t take responsibility because of one conversation that-“

“We were talking about scars, mum,” Ron said quietly. He could feel his mother looking at where his splinching scar was hidden by his sleeve. “If people could see them and still lo-“

“Honey, honey.” She squeezed his hand and pulled it to her chest. “There is nothing- you hear me?” She gently took his face in hand and had him face her. “There is nothing wrong with either of you. He will find someone who will see him for who he is now. And so will you.” She smiled with big blue eyes and tapped his hand with her fingers. 

Ron sniffled and smiled back.

“And he will not be alone. He has Scorpius. And Teddy. And now us.”

“Mum,” Ron bit back a laugh, “you can’t exp-“

“Yes, I can, Ronald Billius Weasley,” she stated, standing and putting her hands on her hips. “He and Scorpius will be invited to every Christmas get-together, Hogwarts graduation, and even Sunday dinners if I feel you boys need to be shown how to act like proper gentlemen at the table.” She nodded to herself and smiled down at Ron. “And he will be invited to your wedding. Because you will have another.”

“Thank you, mum.”

“And Charlie’s, too. Whenever he finally decides to quit playing with those beasts and settle down with a nice girl.”

Ron bit his tongue.

“You know, he and Draco have been getting along quite nicely this evening. Must be something to do with spending so much time around giant reptiles,” she mused, charming herself up a mug of cocoa. “I hope they become close friends.”

“A bit late for that,” Ron mumbled.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing. I am, um…” Ron stood from the table, shaking the feeling back into his long legs. “I’m going to go find Draco. It’s getting late, and I’m guessing he’ll want to take the boys home soon.”

“That’s a good boy.” She sipped her cocoa. “Oh, and ask if they want anything to take home with them.”

“Mum, there’s hardly any food left.”

She waved him off. “I can whip something up if they’re still hungry.”

Ron smiled and walked from the kitchen, once again hearing the phrase “thin as a rail” tumble from Molly’s lips.

~~~

Teddy and Scorpius were in the library. Scorpius with his head on Teddy’s shoulder, barely able to keep his eyes open while his aquamarine-haired cousin was talking to Charlie and Arthur about Hogwarts.

“So is it true that Professor Thrilby will be retiring this year?” Arthur asked. He leaned forward and wrung his hands. “If they’re still looking for a teacher for Muggle Studies-“

“Did you get that radio to work, Dad?” Charlie asked, smirking.

“Well, no, but-“

“Sorry, Uncle Arthur, but she’s gonna be around a bit longer,” Teddy told him, shaking his head.

Ron leaned over the back of couch with Teddy and Scorpius. “Sorry to interrupt, boys, but have any of you seen Draco?”

Charlie perked up a little and Ron stared him down.

His older brother just smiled and shrugged. “Not for a bit, Ronnykins. Check upstairs. I saw him up there earlier when I was helping George take down all that mistletoe nonsense.” 

“Hopefully you got it all down,” Teddy added, giving a frightened grimace, “I’d hate to see what Aunt Molly would do if someone got caught under one at the next gathering here.”

Charlie had a twinkle in his eye when he looked at Ron. “I think we got all of it, but if you want, I can check again and find Draco while I’m at it.” He motioned to stand up and Ron narrowed his eyes threateningly.

“You will sit here and watch these two while I grab their floo home.” 

Scorpius yawned and blinked his eyes open barely. “What’s happening, Teddy?”

“Nothing is going on, young Mr. Malfoy,” Charlie answered as Ron made his way to the stairs. “Ron and I are just trying to decide who’s a better friend to your dad.”

Ron scowled and hurried up the stairs, almost missing Scorpius’s response of “I think Father likes Mr. Ron more” and Charlie’s dramatic gasp.

The ginger man grinned to himself as he climbed the old wooden steps, intent on finding the blond man. 

He found him in the same room as he did earlier that evening. The food was untouched on the desk, unlike the flask that lay beside it. Draco was standing at the window, an arm pressed against the glass and a fist lightly running it’s knuckles across the cold pane. His other hand was on his hip, forcing his back into an arch.

Ron cleared his throat as he stepped into the room. Draco looked over his shoulder and gave Ron a pointed look. “Yes?”

“It’s getting late. Thought you might want to take the boys to the Manor,” Ron said quietly, a hand playing with the edge of the door.

The blond man nodded, taking his arm off the window. “I’ll be out of your hair shortly, then.”

Ron sucked in a breath and closed the door, facing Draco as he did so. The man raised an eyebrow and straightened his back. His shoulders stiffened and his scowl deepened.

Ron let out a long breath. “Do you like Charlie?”

Draco’s expression turned to surprise. “Well, I- I guess. He’s very interes-“

“No, I mean,” Ron took a step forward and met Draco’s gaze, “do you like my brother?”

A laugh bubbled out of the man, and he closed his eyes with a smirk. “Still talking like that. Look, I don’t like him like that. I just-“

“Because it’d be okay if you did. No one in this family would hate you for that. Charlie is a catch,” he babbled out, taking another step. He could feel his nerves getting to him and his ears start to burn. “They wouldn’t mind that you’re both guys, either. They- they’re progressive.”

Draco’s smirk disappeared into an unreadable frown. “Would you mind, though?”

Ron swallowed. “I wouldn’t mind at all. I don’t care that you’re both guys.” He was standing by the chair where Draco had thrown his cloak over the back. “I don’t mind that you’re a Malfoy, either, uh, Malfoy.”

The frown quirked up into a smile for a split second. “Anything else you… wouldn’t mind?” An eyebrow arched.

“We all have scars, Draco. We… this family has more than most. Scars and-“ Another step forward. “Dark Marks won’t send us running.” He unbuttoned his cuff and rolled up his left sleeve. The pale serpentine scars from the Department of Mysteries stood stark against his freckled skin. He rolled his sleeve further. Past his bicep. His scar from splinching almost glowed in the lamplight around the edges of the swirling red of flesh that was never recovered. “I don’t mind scars, Draco. Never did.”

He watched as Draco reached forward, tentatively. He brought his hand back for a moment, before Ron took a step and felt those delicate fingers brush against the smooth scars of thoughts.

“I don’t mind the scars or the bloodline or any of that shite,” he continued quietly, feeling his skin pimple up from the ghostly tracings Draco was doing. He smiled lightly. “As long as you don’t act a right prick.”

Draco gave a soft laugh, his fingers pressing harder into the scar tissue. “I can make no promises about that,” he whispers out, looking up to meet Ron’s eyes throughout his ministrations.

“I guess that means I’ll have to keep an eye on you,” Ron replied, slowly lifting his arms to take hold of Draco’s right wrist.

Draco stiffened, but didn’t draw back,. He kept his fingers on Ron’s arm. On the curve of pale skin that was closest to the freckled wrist. Ron carefully undid Draco’s cufflink, setting it on the desk to glimmer in the light. Undoing the button below, he slid his fingers around the cuff, turning it upward. The pale skin of his wrist was exposed, and the ginger ran his thumb over the pulse line, feeling the beat of Draco’s heart.

He swallowed and folded the cuff up again, and again. The skin being shown was… different. It was speckled with deep red, devoid of texture. It wrapped around his entire wrist as he exposed more skin. Ron stopped once the sleeve was below the elbow, showing the forearm in all its nakedness. 

The Dark Mark, faded and grey with Voldemort’s death, was stark against the red of surrounding skin. Most of the forearm was burn scar tissue. No hair, no wrinkles, not even veins that Ron could make out. Just small white flecks that outlined the Mark. Ron ran the pad of his thumb up Draco’s arm, feeling the differences in the skin. The heat from his pulse in his wrist, to the smooth, dry drag of the burns, to the prickled skin under the Mark to more burns and up to soft skin against the rolled-up sleeve.

“So,” Draco said hoarsely, his pulse speeding up under Ron’s fingers, “do you mind this?”

“No,” he answered, his own voice coming out low. “Not at all.” His thumb pulled over Draco’s palm as he ran his fingers over his arm again, slower this time.

“Then would you mind me seeing your brother?”

“Yes,” Ron nearly whispered, afraid any noise would tear the paper skin under his touch.

“Why?” Draco’s fingers squeezed over Ron’s arm.

“Because you need someone closer to home. Someone who can dedicate their time to you. Can walk down the street with you and Scorpius. Can see this in the morning…” He ran his ring finger around the Mark slowly, watching the skin underneath pimple. “…and be happy it’s in his bed, and not someone else’s.”

“And you don’t think he can do that?”

Ron shook his head without taking his eyes off the contrast of his fingers against Draco’s skin. “I know he can do all of that and more, but…” He swallowed and let his eyes travel upwards over silk-covered arm and shoulder to a slender neck and up into deep storm cloud eyes. “… I don’t want him to be the one to do that with you.”

Draco huffed out a small laugh and tipped his head up, exposing more pale throat to the ginger’s view. “You don’t… oh.” He smiled, showing off sharp white teeth between pink lips. “Looks like your brother isn’t as observant as he thinks he is.”

Ron blinked and tore his gaze from the creamy skin in front of him to follow Draco’s statement. Above them hung a sprig of mistletoe, delicately placed just before the window.

“It could just be regular mistletoe,” Ron justified, unable to remove his hands from Draco’s arm. “We placed both kinds up.”

“How can you be sure which one it is?” Draco’s pulse quickened and his skin felt warmer.

“There’s only one way to tell,” Ron offered, lifting his foot and letting it drag behind him.

He did not get one step away from the window before Draco’s fingers wrapped around Ron’s collar and forcefully pulled him forward. Their lips met with heat and force and a speeding of their heartrates. One of Ron’s hands found Draco’s waist as the other made it’s way around Draco’s neck, tipping his head back to deepen the kiss. A shudder ran through the blond and his lips parted, releasing a moan. Ron stepped closer until their chests met, and Draco’s hands rested atop Ron’s pectorals. They twisted the soft cotton of the shirt and Ron felt Draco’s tongue drag across his lips. His own tongue responded in kind for a moment before the two men separated, one with his head tilted back and the other with his lips on a throat. 

“I don’t care which one it is,” Draco whispered, licking his lips. His eyes were still closed and he let out a small smile. “You taste like bourbon and sugar.”

Ron looked over Draco’s features, taking in his cheekbones and his long eyelashes and the bow of his lips. “And you taste like…”

There were several seconds of silence, and Draco tipped his head forward, opening his eyes to stare half-lidded at Ron.

Ron’s hand squeezed his hip. “You taste like someone who can’t be had only once.”

Draco smiled and let his hands travel over Ron’s chest and down his arms, his fingers moving deftly over his wrists. They traced patterns over his pulse line while Draco let his gaze fall to the middle of Ron’s chest.

“So we can do this again?” Draco asked, his thumb brushing over the back of Ron’s hand.

“Yes. Especially when I don’t have we don’t have my family within hexing distance.”

“Really? I thought that was the perfect place for a Weasley,” Draco replied with a smirk.

“I was going to say the same about you Malfoys.”

A low chuckle escaped the blond, and he stepped forward, letting his lips drag across Ron’s throat. “Well you did say you wanted to keep a close eye-“

“RON! ARE YOU IN HERE?”

The two men jumped back as the door slammed open and the Weasley daughter narrowed her eyes at them. Draco quickly grabbed his cloak and threw it over his exposed arm.

“You two better not be fighting,” she warned, casting looks between the two.

“O-of course we aren’t!” Ron exclaimed. Draco nodded and coughed into his hand.

“Why would you believe we were fighting, Mrs. Weasley-Potter?”

“Red faces. Messed up clothes. And the fact that you two can’t go two hours without arguing about something stupid,” Ginny replied, ticking off each item on her fingers.

“Worry not,” Draco calming explained, rolling down his sleeve discretely under the cloak. “We were not doing anything so childish.” He replaced his flask into his vest and strode past Ron into the hallway. “Even if it is difficult to have a mature conversation with a Chudley Cannons supporter.”

“Right?!” Ginny yelled back. “Neville has a better chance of winning the cup on his own than that damned team does.”

“I’m telling you, this is their year!” Ron shouted at their backs, stomping after them.

Draco let Ginny make her way down the stairs before him. He looked up at Ron and shot him a wink before descending.

Ron huffed and followed him. “Almost not worth making out with you again,” he muttered to himself. He watched Draco’s hips move as he went down the creaky steps. “Almost.”

~~~

“Glad the yelling was kept to a minimum this year,” Harry told Ron, shuffling Lily onto his other hip.

She was drooling on his shoulder as Ginny tried to pry the boys from her mother’s arms.

“Kind of disappointing. Doesn’t feel like Christmas unless Mum or ‘Mione make someone mope in the corner,” Ron mused, smiling as he watched George and Angelina sharing pie and cocoa on the couch.

“There’s always New Years,” Harry offered with a grin.

Ron nodded. “True.”

Harry gave Ron a sideways glance and grinned wider. “So, what do you think of Malfoy?”

Ron could feel his ears and the back of his neck heat up. “He’s… changed.”

“I think he has, too.” Harry nodded. “For the better.”

“Definitely for the better.” He looked to the other end of the library where the blond man was laughing with Hermione.

“Uh-oh, Ron.” Harry nudged him with his elbow and an ever wider grin covered his face. “Malfoy might be trying to show Hermione some old wizard courting tricks.”

Ron scoffed. “Not a chance in hell, Harry.” He fought the fire in his belly when Draco looked over to the Gryffindors and smirked.

“We’ll see,” he said in a sing-song tone. He looked to the hallway, where Ginny was putting coats on the boys. “Still up for Hogsmeade next Saturday?”

“Of course. Can’t stuff stockings without Honeydukes.”

“Great. I’ll see you then.” He waited until Ron gave hugs to James and Albus and a kiss to Ginny’s cheek, then he fired up the floo and the family was gone in a roar of emerald flames.

Ron smiled as the fire regained an orange glow and turned to begin some of the cleaning. 

“And where do you think you’re going?” He exclaimed at seeing George and Angelina putting on their own cloaks.  
“Home. Where else?” George stated matter-of-factly. 

“Not with all this shite we have to clean up.” Ron motioned to the mess behind him.

“Don’t worry,” George grabbed Ron by the shoulders. “You and Charlie can knock this out in no time.”

“Ugh. Fine.” He turned on his heel, and immediately turned back to his brother. “Wait, before you go…” He leaned in and continued in a low voice. “Upstairs. The study. There was some mistletoe above the window. Was it the Kiss-and-Go?”

George stared at Ron, then grinned widely before Apparating away without a word. Ron blinked at the empty air. He looked at Angelina, who shrugged and followed her husband. Ron sighed and shuffled into the kitchen, prepared to start the cleaning there.

He did not expect to walk into a bustling mess. Hermione was at the table, wrestling Hugo back into his jumper while the curly haired boy was trying to shove cake into his mouth. Molly was at the sink, directing dishes into the soapy water and onto a drying rack. Arthur was minimizing Molly’s empty dishes and carefully placing them into his coat pocket.

“Mum! You don’t need to do any cleaning!” Ron complained as he picked up Rose and kissed her on the head.

“Nonsense, Ronald! It’ll take me no time at all! You, on the other hand, will be here all night if I leave it to you,” she stated, quickly drying the platters in the rack and levitating them into the cupboards. 

“Fine, Mum. Just… don’t do anything else. I can’t have you cleaning after us all the time.” He turned to his daughter and smiled widely. “Ready to spend a night with Grandma and Grandad?” He asked, buttoning her coat.

She shook her head vigorously.

“Good girl. Now-“ He set her down. “Go with Grandad to the library while I help your Grandma.” 

Rose dutifully followed Arthur out of the kitchen and Ron turned to his own mother, who was busy toweling off her hands and tying ribbon across three boxes. “Mum…”

“Just some treats for Teddy and the Malfoys,” she replied defensively holding her hands up and piling the boxes on the edge of the counter. “Now, let me grab my coat and make sure your father doesn’t try to take that blasted radio home.”

As soon as she was out the door, Hermione came up and gave Ron a long hug, which he returned in earnest.

“Thank you for setting this up,” she said into his shoulder. “I needed this after all the messes at the Ministry.”

“Well hopefully the Ministry party this weekend isn’t too stressful. Harry tells me it’s a great time to snatch up some campaign funds.”

“May not need that many. Draco was showing a keen interest in the idea of me as Minister of Magic.”

“Oh really now?” Ron mused, mentally trying to figure out what Malfoy was up to.

“Yes! Even offered to meet for tea this week. Said you should come, too. Put that chess mind to work,” she said with a tap on his temple.

“I’ll see if my schedule will allow it,” he responded with a smile, taking her arm in his and Hugo by the hand and led them to the fireplace.

There were more hugs and kisses before they flooed to the Burrow. Ron smiled sadly and took a long inhale, before taking his wand out and began to pool the garland in the air. There was a hand at the small of his back and he turned to head to have his lips captured in a brief kiss. 

Draco stared back at him with a small smile across his face. “Thank you for having me,” he said quietly, letting his hand sit on Ron’s lower back. Ron could feel the heat radiating from it.

“You better thank Teddy. And Harry,” Ron offered, smiling back at the blonde man. “They’re the ones who agreed that you should stay.”

“Mmm. I guess gifts are in order, then? I know what to get Teddy, but Potter is… trickier.” 

“Well if you’d like, I can accompany you and help you pick some things out.” He held a hand out for the garland to hang from it, turning his body to Draco and giving him a small peck. “Then maybe we can grab dinner?”

“And what kind of dinner would that be, Mr. Weasley? More of your mother’s cottage pie?” Draco raised and eyebrow, letting his hand slide to Ron’s waist and trace the edge of his belt.

“Something more… date-ish? A restaurant with waiters and wine and mood lighting.” He set the garland onto the couch, drawing his hand across Draco’s cheek. “Maybe a private booth for us?”

“Someone may take your picture,” Draco informed him, looking up at Ron with steel-grey eyes. “Are you-“

“I told you how I felt earlier.” His grip slipped to the back of Draco’s neck and he played with the soft hair at the nape. “And if you ask me that again, I’ll make sure they’re taking pictures when I have my tongue down your throat,” Ron growled out possessively.

“If that isn’t what every older brother wants to hear,” Charlie whined from the doorway, leaning against the frame casually.

Ron scowled as Draco’s face grew bright pink. 

“Then you shouldn’t be eavesdropping,” Ron pointed out, reaching past Draco to grab the garland and toss it in a box under a table. The luminescent ornaments were next, the light snuffed out as they neared their resting place for the next year.

“It’s hard not too when you two look so cute together,” Charlie offered with a grin.

Ron’s face suddenly matched Draco’s.

The older ginger held up his hands. “Don’t worry. I won’t say anything until you decide to. Besides, I think you have more pressing matters.” He nodded his head to the drawing room. “Scorpius is dead to the world and Teddy is passing out as we speak. It might be best for them to crawl into their own beds.”

Draco nodded minutely and stepped back from Ron, making his way across the library. “Thank you, Charlie. I’ll grab them and be home momentarily.”

Charlie reached one large arm across the doorway. “Actually, I think this may be a two person job.” There was a twinkle is his eye that Ron couldn’t mistake for anything else. “So why don’t you let Ron help you with them?”

Draco had a devilish grin on his face. “And you trust me to send him right back here?”

“Of course! You know, as long as I don’t accidently close the floo network while I’m cleaning.” He grinned right back at the blond.

Malfoy’s grin turned into a sweet smile and he leaned up to kiss the big ginger man on the cheek.

“And that was the last kiss you’ll get from me,” Draco teased, before leaving the room. Charlie turned to watch him walk.

“There are plenty of Christmas’s and mistletoe in the future, Draco! Better keep an eye out.”

Ron shook his head. He walked up to his brother and slugged him on the arm. “You are insane.”

Charlie shrugged. “Maybe that’s why I’m the coolest of all of you,” he offered, grabbing Ron into a bear hug. “I’ll take care of the rest here. You go enjoy the rest of the night.”

“Thank you.” Ron squeezed back. His smile widened as Draco joined them, Scorpius curled against his side and Teddy swaying behind him. He grabbed Teddy’s shoulder and directed him towards the fireplace. 

Charlie waved as the four of them disappeared in the bright green fire, and the house grew quiet. The radio buzzed to life in the other room, and a poppy little song about snow and bells rang through.

The man stretched and took out his wand, surveying the damage his relatives caused. He grimaced.

“Maybe it’ll be easier to just burn the place down…”


End file.
